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rainbowfic2015-08-28 02:18 am
crossfortune) wrote in rainbowfic2015-08-28 02:18 am
Entry tags:
enough to go by
Name: Mischa
Story: the empty throne
Colors: bistre (O, dear my lord, Let this breast on which you have leant, Serve now as your shield.), verdigris (rusted away), spark (I'm still the angel to a girl who hates to sin)
Supplies and Styles:
Word Count: 531
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: child abuse (neglect)
Summary: The first time Daiyu meets the Third Princess Lihua, her lady, her charge, she knows that someday, someday, she will die for her. She knows, in that moment, she could make a different choice, but instead, she chooses to stay.
Notes:
The first time Daiyu meets the Third Princess Lihua, her lady, her charge, she knows that someday, someday, she will die for her. The threads of the Lady of Fate tangle against her skin, invisible and almost weightless, but she can almost hear a trilling, birdlike laugh, see out of the corner of her eye the bright, spinning parabola of a coin thrown high into the air, catching sunlight at the height of its arc. She knows, in that moment, she could make a different choice, for the Fickle Lady’s gift was that of free will - she could go home, claim the title she never wanted, and live.
Instead, she chooses to stay, clasps the hand of the princess with the solemn eyes, and believes in her choice. Daiyu remembers her mother, strong of will and too delicate of body, the lonely, unwanted sickly daughter who, by accident of birth, inherited instead of her beloved sister, the mother who had sung to her in the cradle lullabies of justice, of a chained god, of a world someday set to rights, of choices and sacrifice and compassion. The mother who had loved her and died, too soon: those beloved of the Eldest die young. Lihua sings no secret songs, spends hours prostrated praying, but solemn eyes hide a watchful strength.
Daiyu had spent too many years bitter, after her mother had died, alone in the dusty halls of her relatives who had only wanted her title and not her, grew up angry and lashing out, and it’s only until later that she turns her restless, angry energy towards training with the sword. It comes too easy to her still, sometimes, tongue remembering the knife’s edge, even though she tries to be a better woman, tries to be the shield others can rely on, tries to be everything her mother taught her to be.
She smiles at Lihua and encourages her, tries to be a friend in addition to a lady-in-waiting, a bodyguard, clasps her hand and tears up her relatives’ letters, sends the messengers away. Solemn eyes and demure manners hide strength, hide compassion, hide the gift of the Prince of Scorpions, behind a mirrored reflection. Daiyu’s spent too long looking for something worth believing in to give it up so easily, and Lihua’s what she believes in, her cause and the change she will bring. She loves her, believes in her, and any price is worth paying-
(someday, she’ll die with blood on her lips and a song in her heart, Lihua bent over her with tears in her eyes and the most broken smile, trying to smile even now just because she’s asked her to. someday, she’ll die in her beloved’s arms, drowning in her own blood, and it won’t matter whether Lihua ever loved her back or no, because she loves her, she believes in her, and will have died for her, and-
a trilling laugh, the bright spinning of a thrown coin catching sunlight at the height of its arc, but she never sees it fall-
but not yet. not yet. not yet. someday, but not yet-)
Story: the empty throne
Colors: bistre (O, dear my lord, Let this breast on which you have leant, Serve now as your shield.), verdigris (rusted away), spark (I'm still the angel to a girl who hates to sin)
Supplies and Styles:
Word Count: 531
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: child abuse (neglect)
Summary: The first time Daiyu meets the Third Princess Lihua, her lady, her charge, she knows that someday, someday, she will die for her. She knows, in that moment, she could make a different choice, but instead, she chooses to stay.
Notes:
The first time Daiyu meets the Third Princess Lihua, her lady, her charge, she knows that someday, someday, she will die for her. The threads of the Lady of Fate tangle against her skin, invisible and almost weightless, but she can almost hear a trilling, birdlike laugh, see out of the corner of her eye the bright, spinning parabola of a coin thrown high into the air, catching sunlight at the height of its arc. She knows, in that moment, she could make a different choice, for the Fickle Lady’s gift was that of free will - she could go home, claim the title she never wanted, and live.
Instead, she chooses to stay, clasps the hand of the princess with the solemn eyes, and believes in her choice. Daiyu remembers her mother, strong of will and too delicate of body, the lonely, unwanted sickly daughter who, by accident of birth, inherited instead of her beloved sister, the mother who had sung to her in the cradle lullabies of justice, of a chained god, of a world someday set to rights, of choices and sacrifice and compassion. The mother who had loved her and died, too soon: those beloved of the Eldest die young. Lihua sings no secret songs, spends hours prostrated praying, but solemn eyes hide a watchful strength.
Daiyu had spent too many years bitter, after her mother had died, alone in the dusty halls of her relatives who had only wanted her title and not her, grew up angry and lashing out, and it’s only until later that she turns her restless, angry energy towards training with the sword. It comes too easy to her still, sometimes, tongue remembering the knife’s edge, even though she tries to be a better woman, tries to be the shield others can rely on, tries to be everything her mother taught her to be.
She smiles at Lihua and encourages her, tries to be a friend in addition to a lady-in-waiting, a bodyguard, clasps her hand and tears up her relatives’ letters, sends the messengers away. Solemn eyes and demure manners hide strength, hide compassion, hide the gift of the Prince of Scorpions, behind a mirrored reflection. Daiyu’s spent too long looking for something worth believing in to give it up so easily, and Lihua’s what she believes in, her cause and the change she will bring. She loves her, believes in her, and any price is worth paying-
(someday, she’ll die with blood on her lips and a song in her heart, Lihua bent over her with tears in her eyes and the most broken smile, trying to smile even now just because she’s asked her to. someday, she’ll die in her beloved’s arms, drowning in her own blood, and it won’t matter whether Lihua ever loved her back or no, because she loves her, she believes in her, and will have died for her, and-
a trilling laugh, the bright spinning of a thrown coin catching sunlight at the height of its arc, but she never sees it fall-
but not yet. not yet. not yet. someday, but not yet-)
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I wanted her loyalty to be one of her most defining concepts.
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I should post something with one of the ostensible villains soon.
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I looked up the Curse of Chalion: I think I need to pick it up, because it sounds amazing.
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There's definitely going to be inevitable conflict soon enough, especially once I toss a few more characters into the mix.
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